(Pandora and Epimetheus.)
Pandora: Hello, Epimetheus, I guess I'm your new bride.
Epimetheus: I didn't ask for one, but hello.
Pandora: I'm like a free sample from the gods. They call me Pandora. It means "All the Gifts." See, each god gave me one.
Epimetheus: Sounds like a pretty good deal. What's in the box?
Pandora: This I don't know. It's special from Zeus. It's addressed to you.
Epimetheus: Zeus, huh? Go ahead and open it for me.
Pandora: I can't do that.
Epimetheus: Is it locked?
Pandora: It has this tag on it that Zeus wrote where he says not to open it.
Epimetheus: Read me the tag.
Pandora: Dear Epimetheus. Keep this box in plain view but never ever open it. Love, Zeus.
Epimetheus: A bit provocative, don't you think?
Pandora: Rather.
Epimetheus: Well, just put it on the table there.
Pandora: Okay.
Epimetheus: So, Pandora, what do you feel like doing?
Pandora: Well, I could sing a song. Apollo gave me the gift of music. Tra-la-la-la.
Epimetheus: Yeah, nice. Maybe later.
Pandora: Or I could roast a pheasant for you. Hestia gave me the gift of cooking.
Epimetheus: Which one is Hestia again?
Pandora: Goddess of the hearth.
Epimetheus: The hearth, right. And I think Aphrodite must have given you the gift of beauty.
Pandora: Yes, thank you.
Epimetheus: What did old Mother Hera give you?
Pandora: Old Mother Hera gave me an inquiring mind.
Epimetheus: Interesting choice. And Zeus himself? What did he give you?
Pandora: Well, by the time it was his turn, the best gifts had already been given out, and he seemed a bit agitated about that.
Epimetheus: Temper tantrums? Thunderbolts?
Pandora: No, he just went and got this box and said, "Give this to your husband." Plus he wrote the tag.
Epimetheus: "Dear Epimetheus. Keep this box in plain view but never ever open it. Love, Zeus."
Pandora: Right.
Epimetheus: So, do you want to open it?
Pandora: I think that could be construed as disobedient.
Epimetheus: That wasn't my question.
Pandora: I'd be afraid to.
Epimetheus: Still not the question.
Pandora: What was the question again?
Epimetheus: Pandora, do you want to open your box or not?
Pandora: It's not my box.
Epimetheus: He gave you the box.
Pandora: He gave me the box to give to you. I gave you the box. It is your box.
Epimethus: Whatever. So, do you want to open it?
Pandora: I wish I could not want to. What about you?
Epimetheus: Admittedly likewise. I would prefer to not want to.
Pandora: Not wanting to would be the ideal thing.
Epimetheus: Agreed. Let's not want to. Starting now.
Pandora: Yes. Good. Trying pretty hard here.
Epimetheus: Me too. How's it going for you?
Pandora: Not working. Maybe if we turn our backs on it.
Epimetheus: That's right, who cares? Out of sight, out of mind.
Pandora: Now how's this working for you?
Epimetheus: Still terrible. I can't stop thinking about it.
Pandora: Same here. It's like a cricket that won't quit.
Epimetheus: Pandora, let's be logical. Choice number one, we ignore the box—which we have just demonstrated that we can't do. Choice number two, we open the box—which we know we shouldn't do.
Pandora: Ah. Can't versus shouldn't. I think I see where this is headed.
Epimetheus: Let's take another look at the lid on this thing.
Pandora: It was made in such a hurry.
Epimetheus: Quite flimsy after all. I think it would pop right off.
Pandora: I'm sure you're right.
Epimetheus: I pray you, be my guest.
Pandora: Honestly I think it should be you.
Epimetheus: I'd prefer that you do it.
Pandora: It's not my box. You know that, right?
Epimetheus: I'd still prefer that you do it.
Pandora: You are the man of the house.
Epimetheus: I'd still prefer that you do it.
Pandora: Why me? So I'll get the blame if it's something bad in there?
Epimetheus: Well, it's bound to be something pretty extremely bad, don't you think?
Pandora: Yes. Maybe. Like what? An offensive body odor?
Epimetheus: Or a super-nasty little hornet.
Pandora: But it might be nothing.
Epimetheus: Or it might be something fabulous that he's spitefully withholding. Magic slippers. Nectar nougats. We can never know.
Pandora: It's twisted, isn't it?
Epimetheus: Pure Zeus. Well, there's only one way to unscrew it.
Pandora: My dear husband, is it necessary to look at me like that?
Epimetheus: I believe this is your moment. Be bold. Go for it. Get it over with.
Pandora: By standing there and watching, you'll be complicit.
Epimetheus: I'll risk it.
Pandora: History will judge you.
Epimetheus: Nah, nobody ever remembers my name. Epimetheus's Box? I don't think so.
Pandora: So it falls to me. Well, deep breath. Ready, set. Here goes.
Epimetheus: The drama!
Pandora: And the lid pops right off!
Epimetheus: And?
Pandora: And there's an envelope inside!
Epimetheus: Open it.
Pandora: And there's a note inside the envelope!
Epimetheus: Read it.
Pandora: It says. The Oscar for Special Effects goes to...
Epimetheus: Yes?
Pandora: ... Pandora's Box!
Epimetheus: Yes! This is such a great honor. We'd like to thank the frenzied hordes of screaming demons that are coming out of that box!
Pandora: Aaiiee!
Epimetheus: Aaiiee!
(Running around like a frenzied horde of screaming demons. Switch.)